


Bellflower

by kijilinn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Negan Smut Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijilinn/pseuds/kijilinn
Summary: Simon picks up a sassy librarian outside of Culpepper and brings her home to Negan.





	1. Prologue and Chapter One

#  Prologue

 

“That’s it! I’ve had it! Fuck you and your rules. I fucking quit.” I turned sharply away and stomped the length of the building, listening in satisfaction as my manager spluttered at my vulgarity as much as my statement. I needed the job. I needed the money. But I just didn’t care anymore. I was done. 

As I stomped out into the parking lot to get to my car, I blinked in surprise at the screaming happening at the far corner of the lot. Two people were struggling with a third and my instincts kicked in to run to help. “Hey!” I shouted, then stopped in my tracks when one of them looked up at me, face covered in blood and eyes obviously dead. “Oh, fucking zombies,” I groaned. “Why couldn’t this have happened when I was still in kendo?” I backtracked and sprinted toward the library. “Lock the doors!” I screamed as I barreled up the stairs. “Pull the gate!”

“Linn, this is entirely inappropriate,” my manager huffed when I grabbed hold of the folding metal gate and started to draw it across the opening to the library. “What are you doing!?”

“Everybody into the library!” I shouted. “Flex lounge, meeting rooms, move it! Now! Lock it down!” Several people in the flex lounge looked up in surprise, taking in the wild look in my eyes, then collected themselves, either to run for the exits or for the inner parts of the library. When the automatic doors swished open at the front of the building to admit two shambling dead from outside, the exiting patrons turned around and screamed their way into the library again. “Move it!” I shouted at the people leaving the meeting rooms.

“Linn!” my manager shouted at me again, trying to struggle with me to keep me from closing the gates. “Stop it! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Lindsay!” I snapped back at her. “If you want to talk to the two dead men who just walked in the front door, be my fucking guest, but in the meantime, I’m closing the gate and keeping as many people alive as I can. Get out of my way.” She sputtered some more, then huffed her way past me to approach the two zombies. “Fuck!” I hadn’t thought she really would go try to talk to them. “Rachel!” I shouted. “Get the door!” My coworker finished pulling the gate closed as I ran after Lindsay. I got to her just as one of the zombies lunged for her, jaws chattering. She screamed and I hauled back on her shoulder, sending the older woman spiralling out of the way of the clawing monster. I could hear Rachel locking the gate and setting the folding supports, so I kicked one of the walkers in the knee as hard as I could, hearing it crunch as I dragged Lindsay back toward one of the security doors. “Lemme in!”

Neda pushed the security door open and helped me drag the sobbing branch manager through the doorway before we pulled it shut again against the advancing dead. “Linn, are we in the middle of the zombie apocalypse?” the teen librarian asked me, her eyes wide.

“I think so,” I agreed.

“Awesome.” Her voice was somewhere between horrified and genuinely excited and I grinned weakly. I knew the feeling. “What should we do?”

“We’re better off trying to lock the automatics so they don’t let any more in,” I said quickly, watching the two staggering around the hallway outside. “It won’t take much pressure from them to push the doors open, though. Barricades. Get as many people upstairs as we can manage. Secure the offices, the ESOL space. We should be able to get out on the roof from there, too, to signal for help.”

“We need to check people for bites, too,” added Rachel as she came back to where we were standing. “The only good thing about this is that enough of us know what’s going on to believe it.”

“Thank God for George Romero,” I said with a nod. “I need something I can brain a zombie with.” Before either of them could respond, I headed off toward the storage area in the circulation room, hunting for something large enough that I could swing and do some damage. A quick survey came up empty, so I returned to Neda and Rachel. “I can take a cart and run them down, but we don’t have anything to swing. If I corral them, can one of you get the doors?”

“I’m too short,” Rachel said, her expression frustrated. “I can push the cart, though.”

“Sounds good.” She collected one of the sturdier book carts and we crept to the side door of the circulation room. Opening it slowly, we peered out and watched three more zombies staggering inside. “Shit. Still okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Rachel said doggedly. “Just hurry with the doors.” Neda stood by to open the doors for us again when we were through, then we sprinted out. Rachel ran the carts straight for the nearest zombie with a wild scream and I darted through the internal automatics to close and bolt the outside ones. Once they were closed, I came back through and turned off the internal doors, too. Rachel was still ramming the cart into dead bodies, screaming the whole while as they came after her, but she was fast and strong, rolling free whenever they got too close. 

“Done!” I shouted and she abandoned the cart to run back to me. We stuffed ourselves through the door when Neda opened it and we all tumbled into a pile, breathing hard and half-giggling with hysterical relief. 

“Well, we’re down to having to deal with five,” Neda said as she picked herself back up off the floor. “What about downstairs?”

“Depends on how good they are with stairs,” I said with a shrug. “If they’re not good with them, that’ll actually be fantastic. We can just push our five down. Eventually, they might be able to start crawling up, so we should probably try to get the doors shut down there. And the sound will be awful.”

“Not to mention the smell,” added Rachel, making a face.

“Maybe we should make use of the elevator while we still have power,” I said thoughtfully. It would give us a way into the Bookmobile offices without having to directly face anything down on that floor. We can check to make sure the garage is sealed and that’ll give us more room to work with, too.”

Neda paused to look nervous. “What happens with the passcode doors if the power goes out? Do they stay locked?”

“I think they’re designed to unlock in case of fire or disaster,” I said. “Which also means that anything with a crash bar will be vulnerable. We’ll be better off heading for upstairs.” I paused and looked over my shoulder when I heard someone starting to scream. “God. Is that Lindsay?”

“Yeah,” Neda said softly with a sigh. “She’s been hyperventilating since you pulled her inside.”

“Shoulda fucking left her,” I muttered and shook my head. I didn’t really mean it. Not really. The three of us walked out toward the main library stacks to see what was going on. Soo and Joseph were calming people down as best they could. Cathie and Corey were herding patrons into one location. Lindsay was sitting on the floor and screaming with her hands over her face. I didn’t see Mary or Monica, the shelvers, anywhere. 

Slowly, we condensed our people into some sense of organization. We cleared the upper floor, cleared the Bookmobile offices and garage. By the end of the day, we had secured the library against further invading dead and dispatched the few who had made it inside. Lindsay spent most of the time screaming, so Neda and Corey carefully escorted her up to her office and locked her inside. “She can scream herself out there,” Neda muttered.

By the time we made our way out onto the roof, the sky was dark. Cars were still zipping by on US 29 nearby, but they were more haphazard, more panicked than usual. Accidents were happening and no emergency services were arriving. Rachel and I sat side-by-side on the roof, watching it all. “The world’s ending,” she murmured. “Hooray.”

“Hooray,” I agreed. 

 

***

 

That was six months ago. Our staff had kept it together, had survived until the National Guard from the local base began moving through and collecting people, rounding us up and moving us farther North, towards Alexandria. It wasn’t until we started moving that we started losing people. First, it was the slowest of the middle aged patrons. Some of the families panicked and ran. A guard got bitten. 

By the time we reached Culpepper, even the National Guard had fallen apart. Rachel was gone. Neda was gone. Cathie. Corey. Joseph. Soo and Lindsay and I were the last of the library staff. Most of the patrons were gone; we were down to just four of the original group. Of the National Guard unit that had picked us up, we were down to their sergeant and two privates, one civilian car and a military truck. We had picked up a few other civilians along the way, but most of them were gone again, too. 

It had been a hard six months.

And then… we started hearing the whistles.

 

***

 

Sergeant Moss and I crouched on top of the cab of the military truck, listening. The rest of our survivors were bedded down inside the truck bed. “I really don’t like this,” he murmured softly.

“No shit,” I replied in a similar tone. “Those are people out there, but they’re not coming close. Think they’re planning something?”

“Probably. And I doubt it’s a lasagna and a fruit basket to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood.’”

“Mm,” I sighed. “Lasagna.” The big man gave me a sidelong look and I grinned at him. “Cheese and pasta. What’s not to love?” I turned back to look out into the brush with a sigh. “The zombies aren’t the monsters,” I whispered. “It’s the people that are scary.”

“Yeah.” He patted me on the shoulder and whispered, “Get some sleep, Linn.”

“Sure, that’ll be no problem,” I grumbled as I slipped down into the bed of the truck. I had just settled down between Soo and Natalie, one of the patrons, when the whistling picked up suddenly and I jerked. “Moss?”

“Stay down,” he snapped.

Lights blossomed outside and I flattened myself down against the cold metal, listening. The whistling was more pronounced now and I could hear footsteps as people came out of the brush. “How about you put that peashooter down and we’ll talk plain?” a male voice drifted lazily up from the ground. “No reason for anyone to get shot tonight. We’re reasonable people.”

“What do you want?” Moss snarled at them. 

I crept to the edge of the truck and peered under the canvas flap until I could see what was going on. I counted eight men with assault rifles and flashlights arrayed around the edge of our clearing. If Moss played this wrong, we were all going to be full of holes. The man who addressed the sergeant was rangy and loose-limbed, looking completely at ease in himself as he grinned up at Moss, his teeth glinting in the backlight from his men’s flashlights. “Only what’s ours,” he replied. “See, you’re in our territory now. That makes half of what you’ve got ours. So, open up your purse and let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I don’t think so,” Moss growled. I winced and reached quickly to put my hand over Lindsay’s mouth as she started to whimper. 

“Don’t make this difficult,” the man said, his tone glittering with a diamond edge. “It really doesn’t have to be. Just open up. We’ll take a reasonable half, then you’ll bring us back to your camp.”

“We don’t have a camp,” Moss replied. “We’re headed North.”

“D.C.?” the man asked.

“Yup.”

The man chuckled, “We’ve got you coming and going then. Negan owns everything between here and D.C. If you’re nice, he might even be willing to help you set up a camp somewhere.” The silence stretched and I watched as the man slowly shifted from one foot to the other. “C’mon, man. Just play nice. Open up and we’ll bring you back to Negan. He’ll get you all set up.”

“I’ve got orders--”

“There’s nothing left, my man! The government’s gone! The military, poof! There is nothing fucking left!” He took a few steps closer to the truck and I crouched deeper, still watching. “We’re the new world order. Best get used to it.” I heard Moss cock his gun and the man sighed, shaking his head. “Really? You wanna make that play? And have us waste bullets on you and everyone in your truck?” 

Lindsay let out a panicked wail and I glared at her. I sighed, pushing myself toward the back of the truck. “Moss, I’m coming out,” I called up.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he shouted back. “I can handle this.”

“I don’t want to die today,” I replied. “Well, actually, I don’t give a flying fuck if I die today. But I’d rather not.” 

“Linn, what are you doing?” gasped Lindsay as she reached for my wrist.

“I’m going,” I told her with a shrug. “You can do what you want. But I’m going.” I slipped down from the truck and stepped into the light of the torches, my hands raised. “I’ve got jackshit,” I informed the men, “but I’m smart and I work hard and I can fire a gun. Take me with you.”

 

#  Chapter One

They did.

Two days on the road finally brought us to the Sanctuary, a massive old factory building that the Saviors had made their home. Simon, the leader of the group who had discovered our party, looked over his shoulder to where I was perched behind him on his motorcycle. “Home sweet home,” he grinned. “You remember what I told you?”

“On your knees for the big man,” I replied. “I remember.”

“Good. You should do fine here,” he chuckled. “Show promise and you might even get to go on runs with us. Otherwise, you’ll be working for points.”

“I’m used to working,” I murmured, looking up at the tall building. “Nice fence.” I had to steel myself to face that crawling mass of zombies. I was a lot of big talk on this one: it was a sound idea, but the sound and smell of it nauseated me.

“Like that?” Simon grinned. “It was the boss’s idea. It’s worked out well so far.” The caravan of bikes and trucks wove between the gates and Simon parked his bike in the motor pool. “Technically, you’re part of the spoils for this run,” he informed me. “Let’s go.” I followed him to where the other men were opening up the trucks to display their loads. With some shuffling, I found a place to stand near a truck bumper and waited quietly for orders. 

“Simon, my man!” a cheerful voice boomed out and every Savior in the group dropped to one knee. I followed suit quickly and kept my head down, focused on listening. “Looks like you had a fine fucking run this time.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon answered. I could hear the sounds of hands slapping leather, then footsteps as they came closer. “Found a small camp outside of Culpepper, mostly canned stuff and first aid. They’re on the Southern route. A few roving groups. Had to kill one, they wouldn’t play nice, so their stuff is here. It wasn’t much: they were on foot. And another one said they’d agree to trade if we help set them up somewhere. Their first tribute is here, along with one of their people.” I saw a flash in my peripheral vision as Simon gestured to me. “This is Linn.”

Booted feet stopped in front of me and I eyed them thoughtfully. Motorcycle boots. Scuffed. Black. And grey pants. The cuffs were worn but not badly. Not new, but definitely not old. “Linn, huh.” A baseball bat swung into my field of vision and I flinched back instinctively, just barely catching that the sweet spot was wound with barbed wire. “Look at me, doll.”

I took a slow, deep breath, then pulled my chin up to answer his request. My gaze went up… and then up some more. Damn, he was tall. Long legs in those grey pants, a low-slung gun belt. Motorcycle jacket buckled at the waist, but his shirt still peeking between the waist of his pants and the edge of the jacket. The baseball bat was a Louisville Slugger, I saw idly. His hand around the handle drew my attention briefly and I felt a blush on my cheeks. He had nice hands. Finally, I managed to get my eyes all the way to his face and saw the smirk there. “Fucking enjoying the view, doll?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the blush getting worse. He was stunningly good-looking and I could feel all my bluster draining away. Older than I had expected, his salt-and-pepper beard framed a wide smile and dark dimples. When I didn’t answer, his dark hazel eyes hardened a little and he prodded me with the bat. “Answer me.”

“Yes, sir,” I gasped quickly. “Very much so.”

He chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that brought humor back to his eyes. “You’ll make me fuckin’ blush. I’m Negan and I’m in charge around here.”

“Nice to meet you,” I managed in a small voice.

Negan tilted his head, still grinning at me. “You like being on your knees, Linn?” The tone of his voice made me wonder if he was coming on to me or just making fun of me. It was hard to tell. 

“Depends on the circumstances,” I replied. I decided the latter was more likely, but I couldn’t resist a good double-entendre step up like that.

“Oh, ho!” he cried, obviously pleased by my answer. “Finally, a fucking girl with a sense of humor.” He rocked back on his heels, grinning. “Stand up, doll.” 

I obeyed and fumed quietly to myself. My nose came up somewhere near the middle of his chest. I hated being so short. Once I was up, he backed up and beckoned to me. “Let me take a fuckin’ look.” I followed him until I was standing far enough away from the trucks that he could pace around me in a circle. I listened to his footsteps as he walked out of my sight, whistling thoughtfully to himself. I thought I recognized the tune, but couldn’t place it. “What do you do, dollface?”

“Trained in library science,” I replied, “not that that’s worth anything anymore. I’m good with computers. I write and can keep books with double-entry accounting. I knit and crochet. I’m good with animals and teenagers, which is much to say the same thing. I can shoot. I’m most familiar with a .22 rifle, but my dad taught me to handle handguns and bigger rifles, too. I’m a good shot and I understand black powder. I’m smart. I can learn just about anything you give me a book about. And I’ve watched the shit out of every zombie movie you’ve ever heard of. And some that you haven’t. I’m good with strategy and analysis. I know basic survival skills. I was trained in swords, but I’m badly out of practice.” I paused, considering my psychology background, then decided to leave that out. 

“How are you in the sack?” 

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Depends on the circumstances,” I repeated. 

Negan leaned forward, his bat leaning against his back as he grinned at me. “I like you.”

“Like me,” I snorted, “you don’t even know me.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”

“Look who’s fucking talking,” I replied. “You should watch your fucking language around a lady. Not that I’m a lady but, y’know. Manners and shit.”

He barked out another laugh and rocked back on his heels. “You are gonna fucking love it here, doll.” With an easy motion, he reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, then stopped at the look on my face. “Ah. Hands off?”

“Yes, please,” I replied quietly, leaning back. “I’m open to it, y’know, eventually. But buy a girl dinner first, at least.” I softened the refusal with a smile, which made him twist his lips thoughtfully.

“After you, then,” he said, giving a half-bow at the waist and gesturing me forward. “Simon gave you the Cliff Notes when you were coming in?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered. “Everyone works for points, except the Saviors. You take what you earn, no more, no less. The rules keep us alive.” I noticed that Negan had stopped moving, so I turned back to look at him, surprised. “Did I get something wrong?”

Negan regarded me with a thoughtful look on his face. “Everyone works for points except the Saviors and my wives.” I raised my eyebrows, noting the plural and wondering why Simon had neglected that part of the orientation. “He didn’t fucking say that?”

“No, sir.”

He made a face, then shrugged. “You’d think he’d fucking mention that part, bein’ as how you have the prerequisites: tits and pussy.”

“Admittedly, he didn’t exactly ask me to drop trow and check,” I replied drily.

Negan’s face blossomed into that brilliant, kid-in-a-candy-store grin again and he laughed aloud. “Damn, girl. I really like you.”

“I’m an excellent peanut gallery,” I smiled, crossing my arms over my chest.

“So, interested, doll?”

I raised my eyebrows. “In?”

“Bein’ a wife.” Negan stepped closer, that grin never faltering. “I think there’s space.”

Resentment rose in my chest and I gave him an acidic, twisted smile. “I appreciate the offer, sir. But I suspect you’d get sick of me pretty quick. My humor gets old.” I found myself hugging my arms tighter across my chest and slouching, trying to minimize my shape and size. Having his eyes on me made me all the more aware of my thick thighs and waist, the rolls that made me so angry when I caught sight of myself in a mirror. Even six months on the road hadn’t managed to knock out my heavy figure and I still hated it. 

Negan was quiet for a few heartbeats, then he cleared his throat so I would look at him again. “The offer’s there,” he said, most of the humor gone from his voice and expression. “You get sick of working for points, you tell me. Even if you just want a casual fuck, no strings. Tell me.” I stared at him incredulously and he grinned, “Fuck, doll, I’m not that fugly, am I?”

“Hardly,” I replied with a snort, “but I am.”

He blinked and made a confused face, his lips pursed. “Excuse the fuck outta me, but I don’t think so. I may not have the most refined fucking palate in women, but I don’t fucking offer unless I think there’s something there.” When I tucked my chin and blushed, he smiled and leaned in again. “Just sayin’. You wanna fuck, lemme know. Okay?” Without waiting for my reaction, he turned away and took a few steps, whistling to himself, his confidence restored. 

I followed him, feeling a little dizzy. Did that just happen? He had to be fucking with me. There was no way he was serious. I shook my head briskly to clear the fuzz of hormones and adrenaline the conversation had stirred up, then looked up when he knocked on a door. “This is you, for now,” he said when the door opened. “Tish, this is Linn. Linn, Tish works in our marketplace. She keeps records of what comes in from runs and how valuable it is. If you’re good with numbers and accounting, I’m sure she can find something for you.”

Tish looked me over quickly, her black eyes critical but warming quickly. She nodded to Negan and held out a hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Linn,” she said in a slightly English-sounding accent. “Thanks, Negan. I was just about to ask for another assistant.”

“Anytime, doll,” he smiled at her and leaned in. “Got a kiss for daddy?” She snickered and batted at his face playfully. He dramatically stumbled backwards and looked wounded. “Aw, I’m fucking crushed. Every fucking time, Tish.”

“Drop the daddy and maybe we can talk,” she smiled at him and inclined her head to me. “Let’s get you settled.”

Before I could follow her, Negan cleared his throat again and I paused to meet his eyes. “You need anything. You tell me.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said softly and gave him the smile he was waiting for. He beamed at me and slipped back out into the hallway.

“Negan sure likes you,” Tish commented to me when I joined her in the small office. She had a nicely organized office with two spacious desks stacked high with ledgers. A credenza against one wall was lined with vertical file holders full of files with headers like, “Ammo” and “Chocolate.”

“You have a whole file just for chocolate?” I asked, ignoring her comment about Negan. 

“It’s valuable,” she grinned with a shrug. “Especially during Blood Week.” I raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “The wives all live close together. You’ve heard that sometimes women who live together sync up their cycles?” I winced. “Yeah. That. We call it Blood Week. Some of the other women here are on the same cycle, too, so things get a little hairy.”

“I suppose that means the chocolate’s pretty much reserved for that week, then?”

“Not really, but it’s expensive as fuck for those of us not sleeping with Negan.” She shrugged sadly. “There’s some good stuff in there, too.”

I shook my head slowly. “Sadist. Keeping that poor chocolate hostage to his dick.”

“Don’t knock it,” Tish chuckled. “It’s quite the dick.” I raised an eyebrow and she giggled. “Negan has an excellent reputation. He’s got every right to be smug about his chances with women.” When I snorted, she glaced at my face and smiled. “He offered you a spot with the wives. He doesn’t do that with everyone, you know. It really does mean he likes you.”

I huffed a cynical laugh. “Means more like he thinks I’m not capable of earning my keep, so I need a cushy spot to vegetate. I might be fat, but I’m not stupid.”

“You’re not fat,” Tish said in surprise.

I laughed. “Tish, I’m five-three and I weigh a hundred and eighty pounds. After the zombie apocalypse. I’m fat.” I pushed past it and looked over the other file folders on top of the credenza. “How do you guys manage entertainment?” I asked after a moment. “Is there a points system for electricity use? Water?”

“We have a few entertainment rooms,” Tish said. “You can rent them for the length of a movie for points. And sometimes we have movie nights where you can use them for free. Those are always nice, but you’re kind of limited to whatever someone else chose for the movie. We got stuck watching ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ one night.”

I chuckled. “At least it wasn’t ‘Dawn of the Dead.’”

“That was last week.” Tish smiled. “I think you really will like it here, Linn.”

“I’m pretty good wherever, as long as I don’t get bored,” I said with a shrug. “When I’m bored is when I’m the most dangerous.”

“We’ll try to keep you from getting bored, then,” smiled Tish.


	2. Chapter 2

I settled in easily. In a lot of ways, it surprised me how easily. So much of my life had been lived in discomfort, in hiding who I really was, what I really thought. And now. Now my snarky, sassy, filthy sense of humor was almost tame. I made Negan laugh and we traded banter until he was almost doubled over. It was immensely satisfying to see a man laugh like that because of something I’d said. 

“You are a fucking hoot,” Negan informed me cheerfully one afternoon while he was looking over Tish’s records for the most recent run. “Have dinner with me tonight? This last run found fucking steaks. Steaks, Linn. How long has it been since you had a fucking steak?”

“I haven’t had red meat in probably six years,” I admitted, trying to hide the drool pooling in my mouth. “No… wait. My husband’s grandmother brought steaks to a cookout and I broke down then.”

Negan regarded me in silence for a moment, then said, “You’re married.”

“I was,” I agreed quietly. “I don’t know what happened to him in Charlottesville, though. We were separated when everything went to shit. The National Guard didn’t find him. I’m kind of assuming he’s dead.”

“But you don’t know.”

“No.”

“Fuck, doll. I’m sorry.” Negan put down the ledger and turned to face me, leaning back against the credenza. “You miss him?”

I shrugged without looking up. “Sometimes.” I peeked at him under the fall of my bangs. “Not always. Only when I think about him, I guess. So I try not to.” An ache went through me and I closed my eyes. “Hey, boss?”

“Yeah?”

“This is gonna sound weird. But can I get a hug?” I blushed brightly and rubbed the back of my neck nervously. “Not in a weird way. I just… need a hug.”

Negan watched me with a small smile curling his lips. “Sure, doll. C’mere.” He held out his arms and waited while I walked into his embrace. He sighed and let his chin rest on the top of my head while I sank against his chest with an answering sigh. “No fucking strings,” he murmured comfortably, rubbing my back slightly with one hand.

“I appreciate the fuck out of that,” I replied softly. He felt really good: warm and firm but still with that relaxed body language of someone completely comfortable where he was. “Though you could probably charge for hugs, dude. This is nice.”

Negan laughed and rubbed my back again. “Would that make me a fucking hug whore? I dunno about that.” He held me quietly for a while, then murmured, “So, about dinner…?”

I smiled against his shirt and shook my head. “I’d kill for a good steak, but I think I’ll save up my points for it. Thanks for the offer, though.”

When I tried to pull back from the hug, Negan held me tightly for another second before letting me go. “I’m not sayin’ I don’t respect your decision, but can I ask the fuck why not?” His voice wasn’t angry and I blinked, looking up into his face to see the sadness there. “I feel like I’m not askin’ for a blowjob and an assfucking. Just dinner.”

I squirmed uncomfortably and shrugged. “Honestly, Negan, you’re the boss. I have no idea why you’re still talking to me, let alone asking me to dinner.” I studied his shoes, unable to look him in the face anymore. That gorgeous face. “I mean, I’m nothing.”

I was surprised when his hand came up under my chin and he forced my head up to look him in the eye. “You,” he growled, “are not fucking nothing.” I couldn’t breathe, my lungs locked in my chest as I stared at him. He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “You understand me? You’re valuable. You remember the list of shit you rattled off to me when you came here? All of that fucking shit. You’ve proven yourself at everything we’ve given you. Every. Fucking. Thing. You’re valuable, Linn.” 

He paused, waiting for a reaction and I felt air coming back into my lungs, but not in any normal fashion. I was panting hard and could feel the excited blush on my cheeks. Slowly, Negan’s gaze took in my expression, the flush on my face and how dark my eyes had gotten, and a smile curled his lips. “You like that?” he whispered, his thumb stroking my throat. I felt my knees going weak as my eyes rolled back and he gave a low chuckle. “You’ve said nothing but ‘no’ to me the whole time you’ve been here,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing mine. “That still your answer?” 

“I…” I tried to start a sentence and felt myself trailing off again. His thumb stroked my throat again and I swallowed hard, trying to organize my thoughts. “Can’t think when you’re doing that,” I finally managed to gasp, licking my lips. 

“What if I don’t want you thinking?” he murmured.

I swallowed again, struggling against my body’s reaction to him. I was warm everywhere and could feel my labia swelling with excitement. “Do… you… want a real answer?” I panted and bit my lip, looking up at him.

He considered and I could see his eyes getting darker, too, the pupils dilating as his breath started to come harder. “Dollface,” he growled, “what I want right now is your clothes on the floor and my cock in your pussy. But I don’t want you unless you’re willing. Are you?”

“Will you still think I’m valuable if I say yes?” I felt like the inside of my head was a warzone, half of me begging to give in and fall down at his feet immediately and the other half wondering what my worth would be to him afterwards. “Am I a commodity, Negan?” 

“You’re a woman,” he replied quietly, seriously. “You’re funny, a fucking genius with words, sexy as hell in those jeans and I’m dying to find out how sexy you are without ‘em.” He paused to stroke my skin with his fingers again. “You’re warm and I love the feeling of your pulse under my hand. Heart’s beating so fucking hard, it’s gonna burst right out.” My knees threatened to give out again and I whimpered softly, drawing a grin to his face. “But I mean it,” he added in a whisper. “I only want you if you’re willing. You look willing. You sound willing.” He leaned slowly forward and sniffed lightly next to my neck while I shivered. “You even fucking smell willing, doll. But you gotta say yes. I’ve gotta know for sure.”

“No strings?” I gasped breathlessly. I couldn’t help but lean closer to him, feeling his left arm as it slowly started to curl around my waist. 

“No strings,” he promised.

I gave in and wrapped my arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to mine as I moaned, “Yes. Please.” He growled again, a sound that vibrated right through me and I pressed tightly against him. His hand splayed out against my lower back, pulling me closer as I kissed him hungrily. He tasted warm and sweet, even a little like coffee and the edge of ginger or molasses. He kissed his way down my neck to the hollow of my shoulder and I whimpered a little, hooking one leg quickly around his hip. “Yes.”

He chuckled, that same soft, warm sound that made me wet. “Heard you the first time, gorgeous,” Negan growled in my ear. 

“You’re gonna hear it a whole lot more,” I warned him with a grin. His lips twitched on a smile and he ran his hand down over my ass, holding me close. “I’m loud.”

“Can hardly fucking wait,” he grinned back. He ran his right hand down my shoulder, then down to my waist to fiddle with the fastening on my jeans. “Can’t wait to hear you scream.” 

Just outside the office door, the door to the hallway opened and then closed again, snapping me out of my hungry fog. “Oops,” Negan sighed against my shoulder. “Boss is back.” When I whimpered softly, he nosed my neck with a smile. “Can I interest you in that steak now?”

“Are you really cockblocked that easily?” I asked him, wriggling my hips against him playfully. 

“No,” he replied. “I just really fucking want to watch you eat a steak.” His eyes were playful and he continued to hold my body close to his. “Dollface, will you please, please come help me eat those steaks tonight? I might even be able to find some beer or something.”

I recoiled a little. “Ew, no. I have never had a beer I liked.”

Negan chuckled and kissed my neck. “Okay, fine, no fucking beer. Anything you do like to drink, beautiful?”

“I do love red wine,” I admitted in a small voice, feeling the blush on my cheeks again. “Merlot, Malbec, Cab Sav.”

“If I find red wine, will you have dinner with me?” Negan grinned. “And then maybe we can pick up the deep dicking somewhere where no one will interrupt?”

I looked up into his face, still with that delighted grin on his flushed cheeks. Was he actually blushing? I chewed my lip, aware that I could still feel his eager erection through his pants, pressed against my belly. “I… would like that. Yes.”

Negan leaned close and kissed me again, his mouth pressed over mine as I swooned back a little, arching my back. “I’ll bring even fucking bring you the wine for approval,” he murmured warmly. He slapped my ass, more a light tap than a decent spank. “I’ll be back. Get back to fuckin’ work, doll.”

As he strode out of the office, he passed Tish, who smiled and nodded to him before coming to check on me. “Busy with the boss?” she asked me with a sly smile.

I shrugged one shoulder to hide behind a little, blushing. “Maybe a little.”

“Hey, if he likes you, run with it.” Tish patted my shoulder as she walked past to pull out a file folder. “Dwight’s got a fresh run coming in,” she added. “Come help me do inventory?”

“Sure.” I turned and picked up a couple of pens and a clip board. “Anybody else still in the field tonight?”

“Simon took another group South again to hit your camp. I think they left yesterday morning.” She walked out into the hallway and I followed her down toward the clearing where they usually unloaded new runs. “I hope they brought us more sheets. The ones we’re using are getting pretty threadbare,” Tish sighed. “Linens are the last thing men think about on these runs, though. So.”

“Hey, check it out!” We could hear Negan’s voice long before either of us could see him. He was standing in the bed of a pickup truck and pulling out a good-sized cardboard box. The glee in his face was adorable and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “We have fucking refried beans! Did you guys knock over a fucking Mexican restaurant or something?”

“Place had been canning them themselves,” Dwight said with a shrug. “They let us try some first. Really damn good beans, sir.”

“What I wouldn’t give for some fucking tortillas,” Negan lamented. “Fajitas would be awesome.”

“Have you got flour?” I found myself asking.

Negan looked at me in surprise, then his smile widened even more. “Yeah, we got flour, gorgeous. You tellin’ me you can fucking make tortillas?”

“It’s just flour and water and a little salt,” I said with a shrug. “Cornmeal works best, but any flour will work.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Negan asked me, jumping down from the truck to walk over to us.

“Lie,” I replied with a smirk. “Or be polite.”

“I love an honest bitch,” Negan chuckled and leaned down to kiss me again. He straightened up and said, “Tish, you’re losing your assistant until she teaches someone to make tortillas. Go, doll, the kitchens are waiting.”

“Yes, sir,” I giggled and looked at Tish apologetically. She shrugged and waved me off as I headed toward the kitchen. 

 

***

 

It took some trial and error, but I did figure out a recipe for tortillas that the folks in the kitchen could remember and replicate. The Saviors and Negan’s wives had fajitas with refried beans for dinner that night. Anyone with enough points for the cover charge had them, too. I watched quietly from the doorway of the kitchen, fighting with mingled satisfaction and regret. I knew there were plenty of people without the points for the meal that were wishing they could sneak in. Everything smelled incredible. 

“Why the long face, doll?” Negan stood next to me, just behind my shoulder so I could feel his warmth but couldn’t see him without turning my head. “Gonna have some? They smell fan-fucking-tastic.”

“I don’t have the points,” I murmured back, keeping my eyes on the revelers in the dining hall. 

“You earned it today.” Negan bumped me gently with his shoulder. “They wouldn’t have this without you.” When I didn’t answer, he added in a low voice near my ear, “You take what you earn.”

I shrugged him away, trapped in my own thoughts. “Give my share to someone who’s hungry, then.” I felt my stomach grip at the idea of fajitas and refried beans, one of my favorite things to order from Guadalajara in Charlottesville. I was hungry. But I didn’t feel worthy of it right now. 

“Linn?” Negan sounded surprised and I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Wait a minute, dollface, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied. There were a million things wrong, just nothing I could articulate. It occurred to me that it had probably been almost two months since I’d had any Prozac. No wonder things were off in my head. But wasn’t about to tell Negan that. 

His hand on my shoulder tightened and he gave me a little tug. “You really are a fucking terrible liar, doll. But if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push you.” He didn’t take back his hand, so I looked over my shoulder at him and saw the sadness in his eyes. “Mind if I ask for a hug? ‘Cuz I feel like I need one now.”

I chuckled softly and turned back to him. “I can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes.”

“Serious?” he asked, sounding almost cheerful. “Shoulda used ‘em sooner, then.”


	3. Chapter 3

It took Negan longer than he’d expected to locate red wine. Most of the liquor stores were already tapped out and even the grocery stores seemed to have been either ransacked or demolished. When he finally did locate a bottle, he showed up in Tish’s office with a brilliant grin on his face. “Fucking finally!” he announced, thumping the sloshing bottle down in front of me on the desk. “Please tell me it’s drinkable, doll.”

I grinned at him and pulled the bottle toward me. “Cab Franc. Not bad, boss.” I turned the label to read the back thoughtfully. “I haven’t tried this one. I’m a little hit and miss with Cab Franc. Sav is better, but it’s red wine and I’m willing to bet it’s awesome with steak.”

Negan leaned on the desk, his arms bracing himself above me with that grin still fixed. “Is this a fucking date? Finally?”

I grinned up at him and stood to kiss him. “Yes, sir. It’s a date.” 

He growled and held my jaw firmly with one hand as he kissed me back, then let his fingers stroke down my throat. “Good. You know the way to my place or should I pick you up?”

“I have a mental image that goes with that,” I chuckled, blushing.

Negan grinned. “I can fucking throw you over my shoulder and carry you. Whatever you want, dollface.”

“You’d throw your back out,” I snorted and kissed him quickly. “I think I can find my way there. What time?”

“Geez, you make me sound fucking ancient as shit.” He considered and shrugged, “Six works for me.”

“I’ll see you at six, then,” I grinned, then paused. “You, uh… you did get a corkscrew, right?”

“Fucking shitballs.” Negan glared at the bottle and I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing at his expression of disappointment and anger. “Should have thought of that.”

“Let me see,” I sighed and pulled the bottle to me before risking having him throw it across the room in frustration. I unwrapped the foil and chewed my lip in amusement. “No worries, babe. It’s got a screw cap.” 

“Doesn’t even have a cork?” Negan leaned over to stare, then looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Is that bad?”

“Depends on how snobby you are,” I said and kissed the end of his nose, making him blink. “I’ve had plenty of good wine from a screw-cap bottle. Traditionally, it’s shitty wine, but that doesn’t really mean anything anymore. It didn’t even mean anything before. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Negan exhaled and nodded. “Good. Six, then.”

“Six it is.”

As he left with the bottle, I flattened the abandoned foil against the surface of the desk, thinking. Tish stuck her head around the door to grin at me and I smiled back. “Things are going well,” she informed me with a nod.

“Well enough,” I agreed.

“Then why do you look like someone shat in your soup?”

I made a face. “I do not look like someone shat in my soup.” I looked back down at the foil and rubbed my nail against the surface, flattening it further. “Just wondering if this is such a great idea.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tish came over to sit on the edge of the desk and stare at me. Her dark eyes searched my face and I carefully didn’t meet her gaze, studying her long, nimble hands instead. “Linn, you’ve got a date with Negan. And you’ve made him work for it, which he has. You’ve got chemistry that makes everyone around you nervous that you’re going to tear each other’s clothes off at any moment. So what’s the problem?”

I raised an eyebrow at her last comment, but she just grinned. “I’m not used to the idea of anyone actually be interested in me, Tish, that’s all,” I protested quietly. “Especially someone like him.”

“You were married,” she reminded me, her expression disbelieving.

“Yeah, for eleven years,” I shot back. “And he’s the only one who showed any interest in all that time.” I took a pair of scissors from a drawer and trimmed the foil into a square, then began to carefully crease it into an origami base. “I’m not much, Tish.”

Tish shook her head and reached across the space between us to ruffle my hair. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it in spite of myself. “You’re bunches, Linn. If Negan can’t convince you of that by not only asking you out but finding wine for you, you’re just a lost cause.” When I smiled sheepishly, she patted my cheek and walked back to her own desk to continue her work.

 

***

 

I took my points notes down to the marketplace to explore what my options for pretty clothes might be. Carol-Ann, the older woman manning the clothing stall smiled at me when I came closer. “Don’t usually see you over this way, Linn,” she observed. “I think there are some pairs of jeans that’ll fit you and I think I saw a heavy workshirt earlier…”

“Actually,” I interrupted her, feeling my blush spreading quickly, “I was… kind of wondering if you had something… um, pretty?” I ducked my chin and ran my fingertips against the folded clothing nearest the edge of the table. “And soft?” 

Carol-Ann was profoundly silent for a moment, then she said, “Pretty and soft.” She sounded like she’d been asked by a child for a bag of sex toys: puzzled, worried, and a little disgusted. “Honey, are you feeling okay?”

Without looking at her, I pulled my chin to my chest and mumbled, “Yeah, never mind.” I turned away quickly and shoved my hands into my pockets, cursing at myself for even thinking about it. If Negan thought I looked okay in jeans and workshirts, he’d still think so over dinner. Probably. And who was I kidding: me in dressy clothes was like farm animals in prom dresses. 

“Wait, Linn,” Carol-Ann called after me, sounded embarrassed. I kept walking until I felt her hand on my shoulder. “Wait a second. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise. I think I’ve got something that might work. Come see?” Reluctantly, I nodded and let her guide me back to the clothing stall. She pulled out a maxi dress in a beautiful shade of teal-blue. It had a low neckline and spaghetti straps, looking more like a summer dress than something for the dusty fall of the world. But when I reached to touch the fabric, it was jersey knit and so soft that my eyes closed. “Want to try it on?” she asked me gently.

“Yes, please,” I said in a tiny voice. She pulled me behind a screen and gave me the dress as I stripped down and pulled it over my head. It fell past my ankles, pooling a little on the floor and I grinned, embarrassed. “I’m too short,” I announced.

“Let me see,” she replied. “Maybe I can shorten it for you.”

I came around the screen and stopped dead when I realized who else was waiting for me: Negan stood beside the table and watched me with wide, dark eyes and a slowly growing grin. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. “Is that for me?” I opened my mouth and then closed it again, blushing brilliantly as he came over to me and ran the tip of a finger down the strap of the dress. “Damn, doll. That looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, not quite able to look him in the eye at the moment. He hooked the finger under the strap and gave it a little tug, drawing me closer and I swallowed hard, chewing my lip.

“You don’t have to dress up for me,” he murmured softly. 

“I know,” I said, licked my lips nervously and tried to smile past the shiver his finger against my skin had caused. “I wanted to.”

His grin widened, his eyes half-closed. “Mm, I like the sound of that.” He paused, then looked up at Carol-Ann, who was studiously trying to pretend she was somewhere else. “Put this one on my tab.” I opened my mouth quickly to protest, but Negan put the pad of his thumb against my lips. “The dress is my gift,” he whispered. 

“You’ve paid for dinner, for my dress, for the wine,” I whispered back, trying to resist the urge to lick his thumb. “I’m not sure this is an equitable trade.” When his thumb brushed back across my lips again, I smiled and gave into the urge, flicking the tip of my tongue against his skin. He gave me another of those slow grins and raised one eyebrow. “I mean, let me contribute something.”

“You’re contributing plenty,” he murmured. “But if you want to buy the dress for yourself, I won’t fucking stop you.”

“Yes, please,” I said and closed my eyes when his thumb pressed against my lips again. 

He pressed my lips apart with his thumb, then released me quickly and stepped back, letting a fingertip trace down the curve of my breast. “Gotta save something for later,” Negan grinned and winked as he walked away with a quick wave over his shoulder.

I sagged against the edge of the screen, blushing and struggling to breathe normally while Carol-Ann watched me, her expression amused. “So, that’s a yes?” she asked me.

“It’s a keeper,” I panted back and grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

Six o’clock came and I glared down at my feet. Carol-Ann hadn’t had time to shorten the hem, so I was still standing in a pool of fabric which made climbing stairs a task somewhere between interesting and hazardous. I had no shoes but my work boots, having long since ditched my Danskos from work. But the work boots looked weird and clunky under the dress. Finally, I decided to go in my stocking feet. I scrambled up the stairs, pulling my hem up so I wouldn’t step on it and embarrass myself further by falling or pulling the low neckline down. My mind was trapped between excitement and terror and I managed to both feel the rush of anticipation and a deep sense of dread that had me wanting to run all the way back to my room, close the door and never come out again.

I stopped outside the door to Negan’s suite of rooms and just stared at it for a few seconds, shaking all over and unable to make my heart rate drop down to something reasonable. I looked down at my cleavage, which was threatening to make a break for it from the neckline of the dress and I chewed my lip. I already knew he liked it, but I couldn’t help the feeling like maybe I’d overdone it a little.

While I stood there, frozen with near-panic and indecision, the door opened and Negan looked at me with a small smirk on his face. “Planning on standing out here all night, beautiful?” I wouldn’t have thought he’d change, since we seldom saw changes in his wardrobe beyond a different pair of pants, but he had. He was wearing a pale blue-grey dress shirt under a black suit jacket. His pants were still the same style of pants he usually wore, but they were a different color, darker grey and almost charcoal. And…

I leaned forward to examine the noose around his neck. “Negan,” I finally said, trying to swallow my humor. “Are you wearing a tie?”

“So what if I fucking am?” he retorted, stepping aside to let me walk past him. “You’re wearing a push-up bra, if I’m not mistaken. Apparently we both wanted to make a fucking impression.”

“I am not wearing a push-up bra,” I snorted. “Who the hell has the time for that kind of shit in the middle of fighting zombies?” I glanced down at my cleavage again, feeling the blush creeping over my cheeks and down my neck.

“Wait a minute!” Negan cried and followed me across the room, letting the door click shut as he spun me around to face him. He peered down at my breasts seriously for a minute, then looked up at me. “Those are real? No padding, no nothing?”

I pressed my lips together into an amused smile. “Not even a stitch of surgery, boss. That’s all me.”

He let out a long, impressed whistle, then grinned at me thoughtfully for a moment before blinking rapidly. “Shit, the steaks.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing and watched the usually composed leader of the Saviors scramble across the suite to stick his head out a window. I came in a little closer to him to peer over his shoulder and found that he had rigged up a Coleman charcoal grill on the fire escape outside his window and was scrambling to remove two blackened steaks from the wire rack. “Hope you like ‘em well done,” he muttered as he pulled himself back in through the window, a steak on a fork in either hand. 

I picked up a plate off the table he had set before my arrival and held it out to him. “I’ll survive a little burned meat.” He gave me a long look with his lips twisted into a half-smile and I grinned at him. “I usually like it closer to bloody, actually, but meat is meat.”

“Beggars can’t be fucking choosers, is that what you’re saying?” Negan asked me with a grin as he dropped one of the steaks onto the plate I was holding. 

“Do I look like I’m begging?” I shot back.

Negan dropped the other steak onto the plate still on the table, then wheeled back around to give me a smirking grin. “No, you do not.” He came closer to me for a moment and put his hands on my bare shoulders, letting his thumbs caress my skin. “You are not fucking begging for anything. You could have your pick around here. And yet, here you are.”

I snorted and raised an eyebrow at him, trying to maintain my sense of humor when my hormones were firing off like fireworks at his touch. “Sure. Since I’m just flush with admirers. They’re falling all over themselves around here.” I tried to take a step back, but Negan stepped with me, ending up a little closer to me than he had been a moment before.

“With tits like those, you can’t tell me you’re not,” he murmured admiringly.

“Actually,” I muttered, feeling the blush again, “they tend to not get past my face.”

Negan reached up and cupped my cheek, letting his thumb stroke back down my neck again so that I rolled my eyes back and sighed quietly, biting my bottom lip. “What’s wrong with your face?” he murmured. “Looks fine to me.”

“Shaped like an undercooked loaf of bread,” I replied. 

Negan abruptly let go and gave me something between an amused glare and an out-right angry stare. “You do not look like fucking bread dough. Who the fuck told you that?”

“The steaks are getting cold,” I said awkwardly, not looking at him. 

When I walked away and went to sit down at the table, Negan followed me and caught my elbow. His hand was firm and warm, but gentle. “Linn,” he said and his voice was gentle, too. “Did someone say that? Someone here?”

“No,” I replied without turning. “But I know they’re thinking it.” I felt exposed, naked, and internally cursed the little vain streak that had pushed me to show off the only part of my body I liked. 

Silence stretched, then Negan tugged my elbow, drawing me around until I was facing him. I tucked my chin and refused to look up into his face, feeling even fatter when the move pressed my chin into the softness of my neck. His hand touched under my chin and he lifted my face until I was looking at him. “Has anyone been cruel?” he asked in a very soft voice. “Please tell me.”

I felt my lips twitch and I stood up on my toes to pull my chin out of his hand. “Not directly,” I replied. I felt cold all over and rubbed my hands over my shoulders, eyeballing the steaks. I really didn’t feel like eating now. “Negan, do you even realize how frequently you call someone fat? You call one of your Saviors ‘Fat Joey.’” 

“We already had a Joey and he was a skinny little fuck,” Negan said, eyebrows raised. I pegged him with a glare, letting one eyebrow arch skeptically. “What?” he protested. “He is fat. It’s an observation.” I waited a few more seconds, watching some of what had just been said sink in. “Oh.” His eyes slowly wandered down over my body, taking in the extra weight at my hips and waist, the shape of my arms and the softness of my face. “You’re not fat, Linn.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” I smiled at him. “I know I am. And I know it’s not attractive. I am pleased to know that I managed to make you not notice it as much because you were too busy laughing at my jokes, though.” I walked over to the table and poked absently at the steak on my plate. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s why I can’t figure out why you’re interested at all. I’m not exactly Sherry.”

The room was silent for a long moment before Negan came to stand behind me, his hands on my upper arms. When I shivered under his hands, he paused and stepped closer. “Is this okay?” he murmured. When I nodded, he ran his hands slowly down my arms and pulled me back until I was resting my back against his chest. “Linn. Of course you’re not Sherry. Or any of my wives. You’re you and that’s what I fucking like about you.”

I snorted quietly. “You like my sense of humor and that I’m an honest bitch. I’m glad because I like being an honest bitch who makes you laugh. I like hearing you laugh.” I paused and closed my eyes for a moment, letting my head lean back against his chest. Negan reached up with his right hand and placed it gently over my exposed throat and I took a breath, gasping a little. “But liking me doesn’t mean you have to think I’m sexy.”

“And if I do?” he rumbled in my ear. 

“I’d think you’re a very nice man who lies very well.”

“Dammit, Linn.” He sighed and turned me so I was facing him. “What do I need to fucking do to get through to you?” Negan tilted his head down and stared at me intensely, which made me squirm nervously and look away. “Do I need to slap you with my hard cock? Do you actually need to see what you do to me?” Those words made a cold flush splash across my face and I glanced quickly up into his face and away again. “Do you remember,” he asked me, pulling me closer to him again, “how ready I was in Tish’s office? Before she came back? Fuck, girl, I was rock hard for hours because of you.” I blushed deeper and tucked my chin until Negan kissed my temple gently. “I coulda gone and done something about it. There are plenty of willing women, not to mention I’ve got my wives.” He paused and I licked my lips, feeling nervous and excited at the same time. “I didn’t, though,” he whispered and I closed my eyes, leaned against him. “Because that’s not what I wanted.”

“Negan,” I tried to say but it came out as a more mumbled, inarticulate sound because his nearness was doing funny things to my head. I cleared my throat and tried to focus my mind as his lips traveled down my neck. “I don’t get it,” I finally managed.

“Get what?” he asked, warmly pressing his lips against the curve of my throat. 

“Why,” I whispered breathlessly. “Why the fuck are you here, Negan? Why me? It doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

He laughed, a low, warm chuckle that rushed his breath over my skin. “I think you’re fucking sexy, okay?” he growled. “Is that a crime? Then fucking lock me up. I’m guilty as fuck.” His lips had found the upper curve of my breast and I bit my lip hard on a moan as he continued kissing his way down. “Sorry I fucked up dinner. Can I make it up to you?”

“You promised me wine,” I whispered when his thumb tucked under the strap of my dress, catching my bra strap with it and drawing both slowly down my shoulder. 

“So I did,” he agreed and kissed the curve of my breast again before withdrawing and smiling at me. “You gonna fucking run away if I go pour the wine?” 

I bit my lip and blushed, looking down at my hands. “Maybe.”

“Then you’ll just have to come with me.” Before I could protest more than a single squeak, Negan scooped me up over one shoulder and hiked me higher with a bounce. 

He started to walk through the dining space while I continued to meep in terror and cling to him until I finally cried out, “Negan, please! Put me down! Put me down!”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled and rolled me back down into his arms. I was breathing hard, but otherwise unharmed and he smiled, stroking my hair back from my face. “You’re okay. I was just playin’.”

“I know,” I whispered, still not able to look at him. 

“Did I scare you?”

“Only that I was gonna hurt you.”

Negan paused and laughed, hugging me. “Oh, damn, girl. You’re nothing compared to those sacks of shit we sling around all day.” When he checked and saw that my face was still worried, he smiled and leaned down to tip my head back with his fingers. “Baby, you’re not fat,” he whispered. “You’re curvy and sexy and soft in all the right places.” His hand stroked down my throat and I whimpered again, making him smile. “And god DAMN you make the best sounds. Still can’t fucking wait to hear you scream.”

I blushed and grinned, embarrassed at my own reaction to his words. “So, maybe, um…”

“Yeah?” he coaxed me as his hand slid down my lower back. 

“Maybe we can skip the wine,” I whispered. “Because I’m… kind of liking where this is going and I’m not freaking out and I don’t want to risk freaking out again.”

Negan let out a low, hungry-sounding growl and drew me firmly against him. “Now you’re talkin’ my language, gorgeous.” When I wound my arms around his neck, he dragged his hands to my butt, lifting me quickly against him. I squeaked and giggled softly when he scooped me off my feet and made a short, mad dash into the bedroom with my feet kicking a few inches above the ground. With a growl, he pounced onto the bed and we bounced to a stop with his long body pinning me to the blankets. “Sorry, does that count as foreplay?” he asked, almost sounding breathless as he grinned at me. 

“Are you kidding?” I giggled back and wrapped one leg around his hip. “I’ve been wet since I put this damn dress on.”

“I’m glad you like it as much as I do,” he grinned, running a hand over the wrapped fabric which formed the low neckline of the dress. “Damn, this thing shows of your tits.” His finger ran up between my breasts, lingering with his thumb against the curve. “And that’s all natural?”

“Well, the bra smooshes them,” I admitted softly. “But there’s no push-up or padding or anything.”

Negan peeked up into my face, his eyes dark and his grin gleeful. “Please tell me I’ve been good enough to unwrap my presents already.” 

I threw my head back and laughed, blushing as his grazed his lips over my skin. “You burned the steaks, skipped the wine, scared me half to death and you want to know if you’ve been a good boy? You should get nothing but coal.”

“We could use coal,” he admitted, his nose pushed into the cleft of my breasts. When I giggled, he shifted to slide his hands under my back and I sighed softly, arching into his hands. “Please, baby,” he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest and into my belly in a warm, rippling vibration. “Please, say yes.”

I curled my toes and bit my lip, surprised at the intensity of his voice. Like I had all the power. Because, I suppose, I did. I shifted my hips to curl one leg around his side and listened to his long, low growl as his hand ran quickly down to my hip. I arched my back and slowly writhed under him, feeling his body against mine as he breathed harder against my skin. “Negan,” I whispered and felt his body come to immediate attention, his breath catching and the tiny flick of his tongue as he wet his lips, so close to my skin that I could feel it. He almost vibrated with tension, contained energy and hunger. I smiled as I ran my hands slowly through the curls of his dark hair, watched as his face both relaxed around the eyes and tensed at the jawline. “You can unwrap your presents now,” I finished.

The sound Negan made was borderline obscene all on its own as he buried his face in my breasts and his hands ran roughly up across the fabric of my dress, pulling the straps of both dress and bra down quickly. I gasped in surprise when he pulled me up to him, unhooking my bra with nimble fingers and drawing the cups down and away. When my breasts were bare, he stopped to admire them, letting the weight of them rest in his palms as he gently stroked the nipples, small and pink with barely any discernible areola at all. “God damn,” he breathed. “You weren’t kidding. That is all fucking you.” He leaned in to run his lips slowly along one nipple, feeling it perk against his skin as he grinned. “Hey, I think this one likes me.”

“No shit, sherlock,” I laughed breathlessly. “Careful, though. They’re jealous.”

“Can’t have that now,” he smiled and thumbed the other nipple slowly in circles. “Fuck, you’ve got beautiful tits. Fucking firm, too. Most girls your age…”

“Don’t,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Don’t you fucking dare, Negan.”

“What?” he grinned at me. “I’m just sayin’.”

“Don’t,” I repeated and grinned back at him. “Or the presents go back under the tree.”

“I take it back,” he said quickly and resumed working his lips slowly over my nipple. “Gawd, I want to fuck your brains out,” he groaned, pausing to let his face press between my breasts, just breathing me in. I lifted my hips and wriggled against him, drawing another long groan out of him that made me grin. 

“I thought you liked my brains on the inside,” I purred, curling my fingers in his hair again.

“It’s a fucking expression, you sassy cunt.” I froze and Negan looked up in surprise when my fingers tightened in his hair. “What?” he asked, his voice low and worried.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sassy?”

I glared at him, feeling the cold pit in my stomach that said I wanted to sprint from the room and never come back. Anxiety was building and I took a few slow, measured breaths. “No,” I replied as calmly as I could, “the other part.”

Negan searched my face, then shifted himself up so he could gather me against his chest more tenderly. He touched my cheek with the back of his fingers, eyes never leaving my gaze. “I just assumed you didn’t care about language,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, doll.”

“I don’t,” I whispered back and cupped my palms to his cheeks, stroking his beard until I felt the panic starting to fade again. “It’s just… that word. It’s the only one that really bothers me.”

Slowly, carefully, he leaned in and kissed me, holding me close. “Noted,” Negan said and kissed the bridge of my nose, just below my glasses. “Striken from my vocab lists.”

“I… I don’t care if you say it,” I said, struggling to make it sound believable. “Just don’t say it around me. Okay?”

“Too late,” he grinned and pressed his mouth to mine again. “It’s gone. Already forgotten.” Slowly, he kissed me until I melted into his embrace again, this time more quietly and tenderly than the heated pawing of earlier. “I mean it,” he whispered finally when I was breathless. “If it bothers you, I’ll never say it again.”

I blinked until his face came back into focus after the swimming of my vision. I studied him for a moment, then reached and ran my fingers down the side of his face, the tip of a finger tracing the scar just dipping into his salt-and-pepper beard. “Why?”

“Because it bothers you.” His gaze was intense and I closed my eyes, shaken. I felt his lips pressed tenderly to mine as he held me close. “Linn. You’re special. And not like everyone’s special and unique, a fucking snowflake. I mean you’re special. To me. Nobody makes me laugh like you do. Really laugh.” Negan’s lips curled against mine as he slowly worked his way down my neck. “I love having you in an office with a number so I know where I can go if I need to really fucking laugh. To feel like…” he trailed off and rested his forehead against my shoulder in silence for a long time. 

“Like what?” I prodded him, combing my fingers slowly through his hair.

“Like me.” 

Confused, I watched his face, taking in the serious cast to his mouth and eyes. “Do I?” I whispered.

“Yes.” Negan reached to stroke his fingers along my jaw. “When you’re snapping that lip right back at me, I feel like myself again.” I felt the blush on my cheeks and tried to look away, but he gently pulled my face back to his and kissed me slowly, massaging my lips with his until I I sighed and curled closer to him again. When I relaxed, he reached one hand down my side, dragging the hem of my dress higher until the maxi dress’s long skirt was bunched in his hand and he could touch my thigh. “I laugh a lot,” he whispered against my neck as he caressed my hip, “but I can’t hold back with you.”

“I’ve noticed,” I teased, but I had noticed: when Negan and I were talking, his laugh had a different tone, more easy and free. When he talked to other people and laughed, it was sculpted, crafted for a purpose, usually to intimidate or belittle. His laughter with me was… real. I sighed and let my head drop back when he kissed my neck and his hand slipped across my skin, finding the edge of my panties. “Don’t hold back,” I whispered and bit my lip when he groaned, his fingers trembling briefly. 

“Don’t want to fucking hurt you,” he protested softly before letting his thumb creep under the elastic of my panties, caressing the ticklish skin where my thigh joined my trunk. 

“I’m sturdy,” I promised and kissed his temple, smiling when he groaned again and shifted his hips, pressing himself against me. He was rock hard through the dress pants and I felt myself respond, rocking my hips forward to rub against him. “If it’s too much, I’ll tell you.”

“Fucking damn,” he groaned against my skin and rocked sharply against me again, shoving me a little farther backwards on the bed. “You promise you’ll tell me, doll? Because I’m not sure I’m gonna--”

“Don’t stop,” I whispered and tugged on his ear with my lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m here because I want to be.” I grinned when he looked up at me, breathless and his eyes dark with lust. “I’m tough,” I murmured. “I can take anything you’ve got. So bring it.”

His jaw clenched on a growl and I watched his eyes half-close before a slow grin crossed his face, predatory and hungry. “Careful what you fuckin’ wish for, sexy.”

“I’m hearing a lot of talk and not a lot of ripping clothing,” I growled back playfully, working my hands through his hair. 

“Fuck, if you insist.” His hands rippled down under my dress and I gasped when he roughly dragged my panties down and under my legs, tossing them away and then rushing back up. The skirt flopped over his head and he chuckled low in his throat as he hungrily kissed his way up my inner thigh. I kicked my feet with a little squeal and he stopped, breathing hard against my skin. His head popped up a little, tented under the blue skirt. “You okay?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

“I’m really fucking ticklish,” I admitted, my toes curled and my legs tense. 

Negan considered for a moment, then ran his broad hands over my thighs, eliciting a more relaxed groan from me. “Hmmm,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Slower, then.” He rubbed his hands slowly over my skin, working his way up until he could caress my hips. He kissed the top of my thigh, applying more pressure than he had before so his touch lingered and didn’t flutter quite so much. I gasped a positive and he chuckled. “There we go.” He worked warm, firm kisses along my inner thigh until I was moaning softly, my knees bent and one leg hooked around his shoulder. With slow pressure, he ran the flat of his thumb over my labia, pressing the outer lips back and flicking the tip of his tongue against my slit. I gasped and he paused, listening to my breathing and I felt his lips curl in a smile when I lifted my hips eagerly, begging for more. “Good?” he asked in a warm rush of breath against my skin.

“Yes,” I gasped. 

“More?”

I made a frustrated little whine in the back of my throat and rocked my hips forward, almost driving the wetness of my pussy against his hand. “Please.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he growled and I felt his tongue flick in a long line up to my clit. I gasped and gave a little cry, my head falling back as he stroked again, his tongue working a little deeper between my labia with each stroke until he finally shifted his hand and spread me wide, lapping with broader strokes. I cried out and raised my hips, begging as he chuckled, then flicked his tongue more teasingly against my swollen clitoris. “Damn,” he murmured. “Your partners never miss the clit, do they?” He closed his lips around it and gently sucked, drawing a more frantic cry as I writhed. “It’s practically standing up and waving.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I panted. “Please, does your mouth ever stop?”

“Nope,” he chuckled and sucked on me again, flicking the tip with his tongue and slowly easing a finger into my drenched pussy. He growled softly then and I was surprised when I realized his hands were shaking a little. He stroked me firmly with the tip of a finger and I moaned, my mind suddenly occupied as I worried about that tremor. 

“Negan,” I gasped, trying to resurface from the pleasure. “Are you--”

“Shut up and come for me,” he growled against my labia, his lips working hungrily against my clit as he stroked. He caught just the right spot with one of his long fingers and I cried out, my hands clamping suddenly down on the blanket. “Like that,” he groaned and I felt him press closer to me, his shoulders half lifting my thighs as his face nuzzled against me. “Come for me.” 

“I… Negan, I…” I struggled for breath, my head tossing on the blankets. I wasn’t ready. My body was, but my mind wasn’t and I fought it, trying to sort out what I was feeling from what I was thinking. “Wait, please…”

He paused in the eager stroking and licking, letting his tongue slowly lap against the little nub of nerve endings. “Why?”

“You,” I gasped. “I need you.”

He shook his head negatively, his lips brushing against my wetness. He pulled his finger slowly from my pussy and then slid the first two fingers inside, spreading me. “You first, dollface,” he growled quietly. “Then we’ll negotiate.”

“No,” I cried out, begging. “I need you, Negan. Please.”

Negan pulled his head out from under my skirt to look at me thoughtfully, his beard soaked with my juices. He thoughtfully licked his lips, then said, “You’re suddenly very demanding.” I whimpered and shifted my legs restlessly, not able to sort out my thoughts enough to explain. “All right,” he chuckled and leaned back to pull my dress off entirely. “Have it your way.”

I writhed out of the dress and watched in hungry anticipation as he stripped out of jacket and dress shirt, pants and shoes, finally discarding his underwear and letting his erection bob free. The sight of him made me groan and spread my legs again immediately, panting and hopeful. “Please,” I breathed.

He slid down until he could run his hands up my sides, sinking down to his elbows as he kissed his way up my chest and neck, finally settling his hips between my thighs with his erection pressed slightly to the right of my entrance. “Why?” he whispered in my ear, the tip of his tongue tracing the edge of my ear and his damp beard warm against my skin. “Why not just...come when it’s offered?”

“Can’t,” I whispered breathlessly, shifting my hips and trying to work him into a better position for penetration. I was done waiting and begging. “Not without you.”

“Not alone?” he murmured, nipping my neck gently.

“Negan,” I moaned in frustration. “Fuck me first, then we’ll talk. Please? I can barely fucking think with you so fucking close.” I jerked my hips sharply and whined. “I promise, I’ll answer anything you want to know. After.”

His low, growling laugh was unlike any I’d heard from him before and when he sank himself into me, I saw stars. He filled me, thick and deep and with an oddly perfect fit that lingered in the back of my mind for later consideration. He glided into me, then pushed his face into my neck and let out an almost subsonic groan that trembled in my chest. His hips worked once, twice, then paused as he slowly drew himself out, testing and then driving back in. 

“Yes,” I begged, then worked my hands quickly down his chest, over his hips so I could clutch his ass, pulling him closer. “Yes, that’s it. Please, Negan.” He groaned and rocked his hips, finally starting a firm, hungry rhythm that rocked me back against the bed. As he thrust, I could hear his breathing getting ragged, rasping a little as he groaned in the back of his throat. I pulled him tightly against me with a begging moan and twined my ankles around his legs. “Let go,” I begged him, nipping at his hear. “Don’t hold back. Please. Let go.”

His growl was sharp and animal in my ear when one hand flashed down to my hip and he jerked me against him, then started to thrust harder. His strong fingers pressed into my skin and I could feel the rhythm of his strokes getting more frantic. “Linn,” he groaned in my ear, pressing his face against my neck. “Fucking damn, girl.”

“Fuck me,” I pleaded and his rhythm stuttered again. I grinned and nipped at his skin, finding a soft spot where his shoulder and neck joined. I sucked at his neck, drawing a hungry sound from him as I pulled him deeper into me. “Fuck me hard.”

He did. As his strokes got harder and his speed increased, his low growls got louder and I tangled myself around him, begging. In a flash of teeth and breath, Negan suddenly growled and his head went back, his long throat open as he emptied himself into me. Feeling his release, seeing the hunger sated in his face, I relaxed myself into my own orgasm. As he finished a few more slow strokes into me, I dropped my head back and cried out, feeling the flash of sensation and heat break over me and my body clenched tightly on him. 

When we were both still and panting quietly, he ran a hand slowly down my hip and rasped, “Enough?”

“Enough,” I agreed breathlessly. “You?”

He laughed, a throaty sound unilke any previous laughter he’d granted me. “Yes.”

I smiled and hugged one leg around him, more affectionate now than hungry. “Good.”

Negan shifted himself up, then slowly rolled off of me, slumping to the blankets beside me. “Very good.” He left one hand resting on my belly, then grinned when I rolled toward him and snuggled under his arm. “You a post-sex cuddler?”

“I’m an all the time cuddler,” I retorted. “Snuggle me, dammit.”

“You _are_ getting more demanding,” he grinned and kissed my forehead, then pulled me close and settled with his lips against my hairline as we both relaxed into the afterglow. 


	5. Chapter 5

I fell into a light doze with my face pressed into the center of Negan’s chest. He kept his arms around me and when I woke up a little while later, we were still snuggled together like that, his arms around me and my nose tickled by his chest hair. I stirred and smiled when his hand reached up to brush my hair away from my face. “Nice nap?” he asked, his lips still against my forehead. 

“Mmm,” I hummed affirmatively and nuzzled against him with a sigh. 

His hand came to rest against my neck and his thumb traced my jaw slowly. “Ready to answer my questions, doll?” When I stiffened, Negan kissed my eyebrow. “You can always say no. But you did fucking promise.”

“Negan,” I whispered, tucking my chin. Suddenly, the entire situation crashed down over me and I found myself paralyzed. I pressed my forehead against his chest and tried not to whimper. 

“Talk to me,” he murmured back. When I didn’t respond, his hand curled into my hair and I felt him sigh against my scalp. “Please, Linn. Talk to me. I would have been fucking happy to--”

“I told you,” I gasped, my eyes squeezed shut, “I can’t. Not without you.”

His hand stroked through my hair. “Why?”

“I can’t relax,” I whispered, overwhelmed. The guilt and shame started to pulse in my chest and I struggled to calm down. “I can’t. I get right to the edge and then I panic and I can’t relax.”

When I hiccuped on the panic, Negan’s arms tightened around me and he drew me right to his chest. “Shh, stop. You don’t have to freak the fuck out about it. It’s okay.” I started to calm down and I felt him smile against my hair. “Babe, I just wanted to make you feel good. That’s all.” He kept petting my hair for a few more minutes, then added softly, “You’ve got me worried now. You did get enough, right? You wouldn’t fake on me?”

I looked up at him in surprise and shook my head quickly, “No. It was real.” I felt myself blushing as I smiled at him shyly. “I don’t lie well, you know that.”

“What are you afraid of, then?” Negan shifted to kiss my forehead, then tilted my head back so he could reach my lips. “Why not take an Oh when it’s offered?”

“I can’t,” I repeated helplessly. “I can’t just take. I feel so guilty if I do.”

Negan stroked his fingers over my cheek, his expression worried. “Fuck, doll. Don’t feel guilty. I love making my girls come. Fucking love it.” I closed my eyes and sighed softly as he touched me, tender and slow. “I mean it. I love to make my girls come.” When I peeked at him, his eyes were dark and I realized he was starting to stir again. I blushed and tucked my chin, earning a soft sigh. “What is it?” he asked me and kissed my forehead again. 

“I’m not worth it,” I whispered without looking at him. “I don’t deserve it.”

Negan pushed me over onto my back and pinned me there, his dark eyes almost angry. “Fuck that. Fuck it. You are. You are worthy of everything you want. Every fucking pleasure. You deserve it.” I gasped in surrender as he moved to cover me with his body, pulling me tightly against him. “You deserve it. You fucking know why?” He slid a hand under my head and pulled my mouth up to his, savoring my moan as I wrapped my arms around him again. “Because you survived,” he growled in my ear. “You’re here. You keep going and that is everything anymore. Take what I’m giving you, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

Overwhelmed, I pressed my face into his shoulder and struggled not to cry. “But I don’t,” I gasped. “I don’t deserve anything good. I don’t belong anywhere and don’t deserve to belong anywhere.”

His arms wrapped more tightly around me and he rolled into a sitting position, drawing me into his lap and cradling my head against his shoulder. “Where is this coming from, doll?” he whispered as I clung to him. “I don’t understand.”

“Years of depression and anxiety,” I sniffed, reaching to wipe at my face. “I’m sorry. You asked for dinner and an enthusiastic fuck, not a weeping fat girl in your bed.” 

“Hey,” Negan replied, his tone a little sharp as he stroked my face with his free hand, “I asked for you, Linn. If that’s an enthusiastic fuck and a cuddle and a fucking meltdown, so be it. But I asked for you.” I tried to keep my gaze down, but he drew my chin up so he could meet my eyes. “You do deserve it. You deserve to belong. And you deserve to feel good.” He leaned in slowly and kissed me, his fingers sliding around my neck and working up into my hair as I relaxed against him again. “And for the last fucking time,” he added against my lips, “you’re not fat.”

I laughed weakly and Negan smiled, his chin jerking playfully when he met my eyes. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Much prefer your laugh to your tears.” I sighed and pressed my face against his shoulder again. He let me, continuing to circle his fingers slowly through my hair. “You could belong here, you know.” I tried to twitch away from his words, but he held me so close that I couldn’t. “I mean it,” Negan continued. “I’m not talking about just here, the Sanctuary.” He paused and released me so I could pull back and stare at him. “I mean… here.” He reached and cupped my cheek in his palm. “With me.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my chin, my chest clenching tightly. “No, I couldn’t. Maybe as a flirt and an occasional fuck, but I still don’t belong here.” I peeked up at him and smiled. “I do appreciate that, too. Just so you know.”

“Are you so fucking dead set against being happy?” Negan asked me, looking baffled. 

“I’m just not good at it.” I shrugged, blushing. I felt very naked now, especially since I hadn’t put any clothes back on. I realized I was sitting on Negan’s legs and blushed harder before rocking to move my weight off of him.

“Get back here,” he snapped, dragging me close again. “Finally found something you’re not good at,” he grinned and leaned in to kiss me slowly. “Lying, being nice, and being happy.” I sighed and melted into his touch when he stroked my hair back from my face and kissed me again and again. “Maybe I can teach you.”

I found myself laughing sarcastically. “Are you happy, Negan?”

The look he gave me then froze me to my gut and he actually flinched like I’d slapped him. “Touche.”

I winced and touched his neck gently, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

“Naw, you’ve got a good fucking eye,” he smiled thinly. “But I knew that. S’why I like you. You’re smart and you see shit other people miss.” Negan shifted to slide us back under the blankets, snuggling me close to him and kissing my forehead. “I’m not as happy as I like to seem, no. I’m not very fucking good at it, either.”

I tucked myself against his chest to think about his words. I felt his hand drawing slow patterns on my shoulder blade and closed my eyes, just enjoying his touch. Eventually, someone knocked on the door and Negan called, “Fuck off,” in a casual, cheerful voice before tucking his face back into my hair. “Can I ask you something?” he murmured.

“You just did.”

I felt him snort in irritation and humor. “Literal little bitch.”

“Actually, I’m not a literal bitch and I’m not literally little, either.”

Negan gave an exasperated sigh and pinned me on my back with a hand over my mouth. “Damn, you never shut the fuck up, do you?”

I licked his palm and grinned at him. “Not usually,” I mumbled against his skin. 

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed my forehead without removing his hand. “I want to ask you a fucking question, you bratty little sexpot. Can I get you to answer it fucking honestly or do I have to tickle you? Because I know you’re fucking ticklish as fuck now.”

I pressed my lips together and smiled, half-closing my eyes, then mumbled, “I’ll be good.” 

Negan released my mouth and kissed the end of my nose. “We’ve established that you’re not good at being happy and I’m not good at being happy.”

“Right.”

“Want to try faking happy together?”

I sighed and smiled at him, tilting my head. “I suck at lying, Negan, you know that.”

“Fuck, that’s right.” Negan sighed and dropped his chin to my shoulder. “Fuck it, Linn, I’m trying really hard to say that I want you here with me. You’re not making this easy.” 

“Why would you even want that?” I asked him, puzzled.

Negan glared at me and kissed my neck. “Because you make me laugh, you bitch. You make it easier to fake happy. You’re great in the sack and you’re fun to be around.” He paused with his lips against my skin and his eyes closed. “And I don’t have to fucking perform for you.” 

I found myself slowly curling my fingers into his hair, stroking my palms against his neck. “I’m nobody,” I whispered, feeling helpless and small. “If I can help, Negan, tell me what to do.”

His mouth when it pressed over mine was like honey and smoke and something lost to all of mankind with the rise of the dead. He kissed me and I felt tears trickling down my cheeks at the beauty in that kiss. I had been kissed many times before, by people who loved me and who didn’t care three figs for me. But nobody had ever kissed me like that. “Stay with me,” he rasped, his eyelashes brushing my skin as he kissed along my jaw. “Please.”

“And do what?” I whispered back, trying to hold onto that beauty as the hopeless dark tried to creep back into my heart. 

Negan looked up at me and cupped my cheek with his palm, stroking his thumb over my lips. “Stay with me. Sleep beside me. Hold me and let me hold you. Eat with me and laugh at me when I fuck things up. Tease me and smile at me.” His eyes closed and he let out a sad sigh. 

I turned my head and kissed his thumb. “What are you asking me, Negan? Because it sounds…”

“I know how it sounds,” he whispered. “If you want a spot with the wives, it’s yours. In a heartbeat. But… I… I don’t want another wife. Not like that. I want… a friend.” He sighed and peeked at me with one eye. “I sound like a fucking pussy, don’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” I smiled and leaned to kiss him gently. “But I kind of like that.”

The hope in his eyes made my heart break and I kissed him again, more thoroughly as he wrapped himself around me. “Please tell me that you’ll stay,” he whispered. “Stay with me and you’ll never have to work for points. I promise you.”

I buried my face in the curve of his neck and shoulder, inhaling his scent and letting myself cling to the comfort of his body. “Only if I can be useful in other ways,” I whispered. “Points suck. I get the need for ‘em, but they suck, Negan. There’s so little to go around. Let me help.”

His whole body went utterly still and his arms tightened on me suddenly. “You’re asking to be a Savior.” He swallowed hard and pressed his face against my shoulder. “Dammit, Linn, you can’t fucking ask me for that. Anything else.”

“I want to help,” I repeated, feeling almost mulish now. “Let me take out walkers. Let me scavenge. Something. I can’t just… sit. I mean, I can sometimes, but I have to do something if I can.”

Negan started shaking his head without looking up. “No. Abso-fucking-lutely not. I just fucking got finished telling you how fucking important you are to me and now you want me to fucking let you risk your life? Fucking hell.” He took a few long breaths, trying to calm down. “You can do whatever you want. Inside the compound. You want to shoot from the fence, you want to cook, you want to make fucking floral arrangements, I don’t fucking care. But not outside, Linn. Please, don’t ask me for that.”

I ran my fingers through his hair slowly, surprised by the fear in his voice. “Where’s this coming from?” I asked him gently, echoing his question to me. “I don’t understand?”

His arms tightened around my waist and he sighed, eyes closed still. “The last time I felt like myself, I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t save her. She died. And I couldn’t even end her.” Finally, he looked at me with tears glittering like stars until he blinked them away. “I don’t want that again.”

I waited in quiet for a few minutes, then leaned and kissed him again. “Okay. Put me on guard duty. Let me manage the guns.” When Negan’s eyes flashed open to look at me, I smiled at him. “And I’ll stay.”


End file.
